pop tarts and pretzels
by startswithhope
Summary: A bit of ice and a cancelled flight might just be the Universe stepping in to send two partners the right way home.


The sharp pain of her blunt nails digging into her palm are a purposeful distraction, centering her so she doesn't completely lose her shit at the flight attendant who has the unfortunate job of telling her that there is nothing she can do about the cancelled flight or the fact that she's just given out the last of her hotel vouchers to the person directly in front of her in line. Emma's worked enough customer service jobs in her life to know that some situations just have no solution and as furious as she is, she just can't take it out on this poor frazzled woman behind the counter. Forcing a smile, she grabs her small carry on bag from the floor at her feet and immediately begins to look for a chair near an open outlet. If she's going to be here all night, she sure as hell is going to need to charge her phone.

Looking back to the line she can see him raking his hand through his hair in what she can only imagine is frustration, until she watches him pop the collar of his leather jacket. This isn't frustration, it's primping. The cocky bastard actually thinks he's going to be able to sweet talk his way into getting something the rest of the people in line have already been denied. She hates the fact that there's actually a pretty good chance he'll actually succeed. Killian Jones just has a way about him, this charm that's even more seductive than his smoldering good looks. That charm is why she keeps him at arm's length, or tries to, most of the time. It had been easier when he was still working at the docks, but after his hand was crushed by his boat hitting a mooring he'd had to find other work. David had suggested he could help out at the station and before she knew it, Killian had become her partner. He's the best partner she's ever had, not that she's ever about to admit that to him.

All she knows is he's entirely too dangerous to let him get too close. That's why she'd checked with their office manager before this trip to find out what seat he was in to make sure she was as far away as possible. Three hours in a confined space with nowhere to go makes it really hard for her to avoid him and his knowing eyes and soft smiles. She still wants to kill David for making him come along to transfer Scarlet here to the Chicago PD, but he was insistent. Just because that little weasel had escaped her once, doesn't mean she was going to let it happen again.

Shaking her head to try to release Killian from her thoughts, she tosses her bag on an open row of chairs so she can dig out her phone. Turning her back on the show Killian is about to put on behind her, she clicks to her favorites and listens to the ring in her ear as she waits for Henry to answer.

"Mom? I thought you were on the plane?"

"Sorry kid, they say there's too much ice here in Chicago for us to take off and they cancelled the flight. I'm booked on an 11am tomorrow."

"Oh, that sucks. You're gonna miss Thanksgiving lunch. Do you want me to ask Regina to push it…?"

"No! I mean, no, that's okay. I'll be there in time for dessert, which we both know is the best part anyway."

Emma's relationship with Regina is a complicated one, amicable, but strained. She'll forever be in the woman's debt for adopting Henry all those years ago, but that doesn't mean the two of them will ever be besties. For Henry's sake, they've somehow managed to make their unofficial shared custody arrangement work, becoming allies to give Henry the best life they can now that Emma is back in his life for good.

"Yeah, her apple turnovers are to die for. I'll try to save you one. Oh, is Killian stuck with you, too?"

"Killian? Uh…"

"Is that Henry?"

Jumping in shock at Killian's voice behind her ear, her back collides with his chest as his hand somehow manages to quickly cover hers over her phone just as she's about to drop it to the floor.

"Jesus, Killian!"

"Sorry, love, didn't mean to sneak up on you."

 _Yeah, right._

"Mom? Hello?"

Killian lifts their still joined hands behind her head so he can put her phone to his ear and she watches over her shoulder with annoyance as he begins to talk to her son. There's something else that has nothing to do with annoyance that she's feeling, but, she's really not ready to deal with that.

"Sorry, lad. I inadvertently startled your mother."

She can't hear what Henry is saying back, but whatever it is has Killian smiling from ear to ear and laughing in agreement. Why does he have to be so good with her son? And why does she want to feel his fingers press even further into hers and never let go? She has to put an end to this way too intimate moment...now.

"Do you mind?"

Killian's smile actually widens at her question, his eyes softening and settling with purpose on hers and she, god, she hates how much he makes her want things she can't have.

"Henry, I've hijacked your lovely mother's phone for long enough. I'll see you on Saturday."

Saturday? Her mind is so clouded with the closeness of Killian she can't think of what he could be referring to. It's not until his hand has guided the phone back to her ear and dropped from hers does she realize she's staring at him instead of speaking to her son.

"What's happening on Saturday?"

Because her eyes are locked on Killian, he assumes she's speaking to him, but so does Henry, so she gets the answer from two fronts.

"Another lesson in navigation, if that's alright with you, of course?"

"Killian's going to show me his oldest map collection, isn't that cool?"

Suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed, she answers them both with a "Yeah" and quickly asks Henry to update Regina on her change of plans and bids him goodnight.

Killian can obviously sense her discomfort as he's retreated a few steps and is doing that adorable thing he does where he scratches behind his ear like a unsure puppy dog. It would annoy her if she thought it was part of his act, but she knows him better than that.

"Sorry, love, I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, it's okay. I'm just tired and annoyed that we get to spend the next fourteen hours stuck in this damn airport."

Luckily, all of that is the truth, even if it's not the whole of it.

"Actually…"

 _No fucking way!_

"You didn't?"

With eyebrow raised, his hand comes out of his leather jacket pocket with a red slip of paper between his ring laden fingers.

"Aye, I did."

Now she's wishing she did go off on that flight attendant after all.

"How? She was adamant that there were no more vouchers left!"

"Don't worry yourself over my tactics, just share in the spoils."

She's not sure which is more dangerous, sharing a hotel room with Killian Jones or sleeping alone on a chair overnight in O'Hare. Who is she kidding, she knows exactly the more perilous of the two.

"I'm fine here, you go ahead."

Dropping to her seat, she diverts her attention to the contents of her bag so she doesn't have to see the look of exasperation she knows Killian is now directing towards her.

"I wonder what it will take for you to allow yourself to trust me, Swan?"

"I do trust you!"

"Then what's the issue?"

She doesn't have a good answer for that. In fact, she's been struggling with herself for a while now trying to come up with reasons he needs to be kept at arm's length. Lately, she's been coming up short.

 _Maybe there's a reason for that? Maybe she needs to take a leap of faith?_

"Fine. Let's go. If you snore, you're sleeping in the bathtub."

* * *

Because apparently her life has turned into some romantic comedy of errors, the only room left available has one double bed... _and no bathtub_. In fact, she's pretty sure this room was once a broom closet by the size of it. As Killian shrugs out of his jacket and their eyes lock over the small bed she does the only thing she can think of to break the tension. She laughs. His eyes widen at her at first, but soon his deep chuckle joins hers and they both lose themselves to the ridiculousness of their situation. It's a good reminder that underneath the simmering attraction, Killian is first and foremost her friend. She's forgotten that lately as she's been fighting with herself and pushing him away.

 _Maybe the Universe is just giving her a moment to see what it would be like if she held on instead?_

"I'm starving. Do you think this rat trap has room service?"

"No, I asked when I was checking us in. Apparently there is a vending machine somewhere on this floor though. I'll go scout and see what treasure I can find."

He's practically out the door when she shouts a reminder at his back.

"If they have any…"

"Pop Tarts, aye, I know, Swan."

He really does know her, doesn't he?

Realizing she may only have a minute or two before he's back, she scrambles to pull her pajama pants and t-shirt from her bag so she can change without any awkwardness. She's grumbling to herself as she adjusts her bra instead of taking it off as she longs to do when she hears the beep of the key in the lock, leaving her scrambling to get her t-shirt over her head before Killian can re-enter their room. The handle jiggles but the door doesn't open and it takes him calling for her on the other side of the wood for her to figure out what is going on and rush to open the door to let him in.

"Sorry, love, balancing all of this and the key was more than my one hand could…"

The words tumbling from his lips suddenly stop as his eyes fall from her face in the cramped entryway down the length of her body and back up again. She can feel her cheeks begin to burn at his perusal and knows she should be reprimanding his ogling, but finds herself similarly tongue tied.

"What?"

His eyes close briefly as he gives his head a little shake and she notes the pang of victory she feels at her ability to throw him a bit off balance. It's nice to know he's affected by her as much as she is by him.

"Nothing, you just...nevermind."

He's walking into the room now, so she closes the door and follows while wondering what the ending to that sentence should have been. He's dumping his loot on the bed and her eyes fall to the colorful packages of the various snack foods now littering the brown and gold comforter.

"Pop Tarts, as promised. I got some chocolate and pretzels, too, as much as my four dollars could stretch."

She finds herself suddenly transported back to a much earlier time, with a very different man, the blossoms of first love obscuring the less than flowery reality left behind. Many nights had been spent much like this, foraging on scraps in dingy motels. If only she'd known it would all end up being a disaster. Well, not a complete disaster. Henry was worth all of the pain, she knows that now, even if it took her ten years to figure that out.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

She could tell him and he would understand, but she needs to summon some courage first.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just hungry. Thanks for the Pop Tarts."

His eyes are boring into the side of her head, she can feel it, but he doesn't push her to open up. While she props a pillow on the far side of the bed and settles her back against it, he crouches down and unzips his suitcase. She focuses intently on the silver wrapping of her Pop Tart as she carefully rips it open and lets the strong smell of strawberry fill her nostrils. These things are probably slowly killing her from the inside, but she loves them anyway.

"I'm going to...just…"

Looking up she sees Killian by the bathroom door with flannel of some sort in his hand and a somewhat apprehensive look on his face. It's unusual for him to seem so unsure. He's ducked inside and closed the door before she can say anything and is left staring at the chipped paint around the doorknob, wondering what is going on in his head. Her Pop Tart stays untouched as she realizes she wants to wait for him so he can join her in this mattress picnic.

When the door opens she does a really bad job of not being the ogler this time, her eyes raking down the dark hair of his chest to where it disappears beneath his low slung pajama pants. She's just about to look away when she notices his marred hand is stuffed deep in his pocket and out of sight and his look from moments ago suddenly becomes clear. The long shirts he always wears has hidden the worst of scars on his wrist until now and he's obviously feeling a bit vulnerable.

"Enjoying the view, Swan?"

That vulnerability is obvious behind his cocky statement, but she knows he needs that wall, so she plays along.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before. You and shirt buttons have a very open relationship."

That has him throwing his head back in laughter and her smiling to herself, thankful that the tense moment was broken successfully.

"Here, come join me. You can have the pretzels."

* * *

Somewhere in the midst of their picnic he seems to forget about hiding his hand, probably around the same time she stops hiding her heart. She opens up about Neal, filling in blanks she'd left when the subject of Henry's father had come up before. When his hand brushes hers on the comforter and he asks her what she would do if he ever came back, she tosses her Pop Tart wrapper on the nightstand and shifts so she's flat on her back with her eyes trained to the ceiling and answers truthfully.

"I don't know. I mean, about Henry and how that would all work out. As for me and Neal, that's over, for good. I could never be with someone I can't trust."

Killian shifts beside her and soon he's lying down, too, but with his body turned so he's facing her on his pillow.

"He was a bloody fool, Emma."

Her insides turn to jelly at the emotion behind his words and she gathers the courage to turn her head to look over at him before responding. She's immediately caught in the storm brewing behind his eyes and she can feel herself drifting, the shoulder closest to him digging deep in the mattress as she contemplates turning fully towards him and following through with the tug deep in her belly. But then his eyes dart to her lips and she panics.

"We should get some sleep."

Looking away again, she lifts her hips so she can grab the comforter and drag it down far enough for her shove her legs beneath. She knows she's being awkward, but that guarded Emma that has protected her for so long has taken over and she isn't quite sure of how to stop her.

"Aye, love. I'll get the light."

It's only when the lamp is out and he's settled beneath the covers beside her does she turn her body to face him, the faint glow of the street lights coming through the cheap curtains illuminating the sharp angle of his chin and his obviously furrowed brow. She wants to know if the stubble on his neck is rough to the touch, to feel if his lips are soft or strong or somewhere in between. She wants…

His head turns towards her in the dark and she knows he can see her watching him, somehow senses that he's just waiting for her to make a move, make a choice. It's only as her hand is reaching towards him does she realize that her choice was made long before this night, just waiting for her to act on it.

Her hand tentatively touches his on his stomach and she can feel his sharp intake of breath as she weaves her fingers beneath and between his injured ones. She squeezes lightly, not sure if she's hurting him and waits to see how he will respond. Without hesitation, his fingers press down deep between her knuckles and she realizes how much strength still lies behind his injury, a strength not unlike what he's helped her find over these many months he's been in her life.

It's more than trust she's found in this man, it's something deeper, something she hasn't felt in a long time.

"Love?"

A smile forms on her lips in the dark as his endearment perfectly finishes her thought. Seeing that he's turned to face her, she reaches over until her hand finds his jaw to hold him in place so she can lean in and find his lips in the dark. His scruff _is_ coarse against her palm and his lips _are_ soft, but then he's kissing her back and she forgets to assess any further. Their joined hands end up trapped between them as he rolls towards her, his free hand sliding up along her back to settle at the base of her skull as he angles his lips to kiss her in ways she swears has her toes curling in pleasure against his calves. She can feel just how affected he is as she shuffles closer to hook her leg over his thigh.

His lips tear from hers on a groan as she rubs against his erection and they both take a moment to suck in a few breaths, the tips of their noses smushing as she tries to keep him as close as possible with her hand behind his shoulder.

"Emma, are you sure?"

"One hundred percent, just kiss me."

He takes that invitation to heart, rolling her onto her back and lifting their joined hands beside her head on the pillow as his lips urge hers to open for his tongue. God, she's forgotten what it feels like to make out with someone, especially someone you just might be in love with. She gives it all she's got. Opening her thighs, she welcomes the full weight of him as he settles between them, the ridge of his cock hard and aligned perfectly where she's throbbing for friction. As his tongue urges hers into a dance, her hands seek his ass and do some urging of their own. His hips begin move and the kiss falls apart, her jaw dropping as all focus centers between her legs and how good it feels having him there.

"Oh god, harder…"

"Emma, put your legs around my waist...fuck...you feel so good…"

She does as instructed, thankful his hand is there to hold her thigh in place because she's so far gone she's barely coherent. His hips are crashing down into hers at a relentless pace now and all she can do is hold on to his neck and try to breathe. She's sweating through her t-shirt and she just wants to get naked, but she's so close and by the almost pained look on Killian's face she guesses he might be, too. Shifting her hand to his cheek, she thumbs at the scar there until his eyes open and the pained look turns tender and his hips slow but, mercifully, don't stop. His eyes are still locked on hers when she falls and she struggles to keep his gaze as her world explodes, but she's not about to miss seeing this beautiful man come. The fingers of his injured hand clench hers almost painfully as he shouts his release, but she's on the verge of coming again just watching his lower lip tremble and the cords of his neck stretch as he throws his head back in pleasure.

His forehead comes to rest against hers as his hips slow to a stop and she hooks her feet around his ankles to keep him from moving too far. She's a bit overwhelmed and has emotions she's held at bay for too long bubbling under her skin and just needs to feel the weight of him to help her let them settle. He doesn't say anything, but doesn't need to for her to see he understands. Instead, he shifts just enough to put his more of his weight on his forearm beneath her shoulder and brushes his lips across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. She turns her head to capture his lips fully, letting him feel everything she's feeling behind her kiss.

He tries to get up a few minutes later to clean himself up, but she protests, instead urging him to just use his pants as a towel as she pulls them down his legs. She doesn't really give him a chance though, opting to do it herself, eventually dropping the pants to the floor so she can feel him harden for her against her palm. His hands grapple for her t-shirt as she continues to stroke his cock from her perch beside him and she relents long enough to let him free her arms and surge forward to suck a nipple between his lips through the thin lace of her bra.

The dam that had been constructed between them before tonight has washed away and she just wants everything, all of him, all at once. It's a heady thing to want someone so badly, but at least she isn't alone in this. His cock falls from her fingers as his teeth clamp softly around her nipple and he uses her distraction to push her to her back. She's on the verge of protesting when she feels his hand at the waistband of her pants and instead lifts her hips to help in his task.

She comes twice on his tongue and vows to return the favor, but she's so warm and relaxed and doesn't realize she's on the verge of falling asleep until she hears Killian whispering in her ear.

"Did I wear you out, Swan?"

"No, I just need a minute…"

A minute turns into three hours, as she wakes to the clock on the nightstand flashing 4:25 am and a very warm and still somewhat aroused Killian Jones wrapped around her back. His breath is coming out in even puffs against her ear, so she assumes he's still asleep. She can't remember the last time she's allowed herself to fall asleep in a man's arms, but definitely knows the last time it happened when she didn't want to run, fast. It was the first, and only, time she's put trust in someone to look over her heart and that someone broke it.

"I don't intend to let you down…"

Of course he's awake and clued in to exactly where her thoughts are leaning. Pushing her hips back into his, she shifts until she can feel his cock, warm and thick between her thighs, so close to where she needs to feel him feel her.

"I know."

His hand reaches for her hip, but waits, silently asking for her permission to continue.

"Yes…please..."

String fingers clasp her thigh and lift, giving him the room he needs to align himself and guide his cock inside, his moan eclipsing hers at how tight she is at this angle. Her hand reaches blindly behind her to anything she can find, fingers clenching his thigh as he begins to move and her body stretches in search of more. She feels so full, so complete, each slide of his cock a lover's stroke she'll never get her fill of.

"Killian…"

He's whispering her name back to her against her ear, so quiet she can barely hear him through his breathing as his body aligns behind her again and again. She feels his hand where it's been cupping her breast slide down her abdomen until his fingertips find her clit, the pad of his middle finger working her in circles as his thrusts become more shallow and her inner muscles begin to spasm. His release come suddenly, unbidden, but he doesn't stop working her clit until she comes around his still pulsing cock. She's revved up and nowhere near sated, contemplating pushing him to his back to see if he can go again when he leans his head around to align his cheek with hers.

"Does that mean you'll give me a chance to win your heart?"

Releasing his hip, she finds his hand that's pressed against her stomach and lifts it between her breasts, pressing down over the currently wild beat of her heart.

"You already have."

He doesn't protest in the slightest, and proves himself up to the challenge, when she pushes him to his back to have her way with him again.

* * *

He joins her at Regina's when they get back to Storybrooke, walking in together hand in hand with goofy smiles on their faces. Henry looks at them both with curiosity, but doesn't say anything as he runs over to give her a hug. Killian gets one, too.

Regina just looks at them both with a slightly lifted, perfectly manicured eyebrow and a barely there smirk on her red painted lips. She approaches Emma with one of her turnovers on a plate, which Emma accepts with a smile.

"Eventful evening, I see, Ms. Swan."

"Yeah, I think I'm going to forego air travel for the foreseeable future."

"By the looks of it, you won't be going anywhere any time soon."

Emma looks up from the turnover on her plate and sees that Regina is looking over at Killian and Henry talking animatedly in the corner. She feels a rush of affection and tries, and fails, to not smile like a lovesick idiot.

"Yeah, it's good to be home."


End file.
